


Modern Angels

by furystarcat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Fantasy, Modern, cute blue haired boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2628899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furystarcat/pseuds/furystarcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When chaos is ensuing on Earth and theirs a Heirarchy of Angels in heaven someone has to go clean up the mess.<br/>The Fallen is turning humans in to his corrupted pawns and even turning them into heinous beasts. Barachiel is sent to stop him but it's not easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modern Angels

**Author's Note:**

> So these first few chapters are written with extremely rough draft as my guide because I started writing it down just to get my annoying ideas out but now it's turning into a full story whoa!  
> There's some art for the series too!  
>  http://furystarcat.tumblr.com/search/modern+angels
> 
> This chapter is a bit on the short side hopefully these will get lengthier.

Chapter 1

“Get rid of him”

The voice resonates in the mind of a falling star. Barachiel’s flesh tingles with the sensation of being seared till incineration. Yet his tanned skin is not damaged or scared. Blond hair whips across his face mimicking the dangerous flames enveloping his body. He refuses to open his sensitive eyes to the sight. Not even when a resounding pop attacks his ears as he breaks thorough the last sphere and is now plummeting in the earthly sky.

Not even when he makes contact with earth in an explosion of dust. He remains limp in that gaping dirty whole exhausted from his journey and the ache between his shoulder blades was taxing. His golden and maroon-tinted wings did not appreciate the fall. Barachiel wanted rest.

\------

            When he woke it was to the sound of an occasional drip drip and then a dampness pressing down on his forehead. His body protested when he tried to move especially the golden appendages fixed to his back still angry from the abuse. Barachiel eventually gave up and sank into soft cool sheets, taking deep breaths to counter the pain. Caramel eyes slid open yet in a haze. It took him a moment to finally make sense of the face smiling down at him.

            “I didn’t expect an angel to be dropped off at my doorstep. Especially not an archangel like you, Barachiel”

            She had glowing dark skin and a round face complimented by onyx locks pulled up out of her face a chocolate colored eyes. Lailah. The angel of night and conception.

The exchange soft smiles and she takes the rag off his head and wrings the excess into a saucer.

“How did I get here… after I crashed?”

“Carried you, how else? What about you, why are you here?”

Barachiel pauses before roughly sitting up. Chafed hands dig into the pockets of his pants and pull out a crumpled paper. It was decorated with glittering gold calligraphy. Centered was the scowl of a winged man’s face.

**_Barachiel_ **

** Assignment **

**_‘The Fallen’ is corrupting and poisoning life on Earth and defied the Heaven’s orders. Either capture or kill._ **

“They said I can find recruits here”

Lailah frowns. “The only angels have abandoned or retired” she pauses, “unless you want to visit Zadkiel’s garrison north of here”

Barachiel grimaces, “no”.

“Suit yourself, prolong your brotherly feud. I’ll help as much as I can but you’re going to need more soldiers” There’s a following silence. “Stay for the night and rest, you can look tomorrow”.

He’s left alone in the small room. It was heavily decorated pictures lined the walls in matching frames, hand painted plates and cherubim figures. A breeze seeped through the window panes, cold and wet and the curtains rippled with it. Floral patterns were a favorite on the furniture and blankets and the familiar sight of a pot of orchids in the corner meant that she still kept up with her gardening hobby. Lailah was one of the few angels now permanently stationed on earth. Many mothers need to be visited and children to be blessed. Even though she had her niche in the heaven community she was trained as a Power as well as Principality which didn’t happen often. Barachiel, being an archangel was a trained under all aspects Dominion and Virtue.

\------

In the morning Lailah showed him the town. There wasn’t anything intriguing really; it offered what typical human communities offered. Lailah walked alongside Barachiel the hour long walk of silence prickling her thoughts.

            “What are we looking for again?”

            “Tampered humans”

“Hey!” The sudden shout caught their attention. A hooded man slips into an alley, between a Victorian style complex turned antique shop and an automat.

            “There”

Barachiel pursued him, rushing to the other side of the street and pressing himself against the brick wall of the automat. His nose crinkled at the pungent oil smell. He peered around the corner for the hooded man. It was a typical horror movie bad alleyway, light never found the crevice between the building sun or artificial. However he could make out the scuffle between two figures, the hooded man was significantly taller than the other. The shorter one could only be a kid, a teenager perhaps and the hooded man was starting to get rough with him.

            “You came to the wrong town, Blue. He wants you out of here, you’re lucky you’re not like the others or you’d be dead. He’s giving you mercy so why don’t you just take it.”

            “Guinea Pigs aren’t all that intimidating don’t you think? Now if you’d just hold still-“

            “Like the fuck I’d let you do that!” He shoves the kid’s shoulders against the wall and lifts his right hand to strike. The whole stance was rather sloppy but for a kid it’d be enough. Barachiel advanced around the corner just in time to see the teenager retaliate. He was fast just a blur of blue-dyed hair and he planted an elbow right into the other’s temple while balancing on his toes gracefully so he can reach. The thug drops to the ground easily and with a loud thud against the concrete. Barachiel is bewildered from a moment trying to comprehend what he just saw. “What-“

As soon as the words were finally freed from his lips and out of his shocked state the boy was gone. Barachiel’s eyes narrowed at where he once was as if focusing on the spot harder would clear his vision so he could see that the boy was in fact still there yet to no avail.

            “Looks like you were right about the bully” Lailah’s calm voice called to him and he turned see her kneel next to the man sprawled against the floor. His hood had fallen to display the bruise that was starting to form on the side of his face. His face was littered with ink black markings, darker than any tattoo sprouting from his eyes that contrasted with a sickly pale complexion and concerning dark circles.

            Barachiel frowns. It was a shame the corrupted human was knocked out before could question. Not that he was sure he’d get any answers out of him. He leans over his body a grasps his arm firmly; the angel closed his eyes in concentration. A burning heat built up his chest before slivering down his arm and into the man. The black marking his face devoured the heat turning white. The man gasped back into conscious, green eyes flung open and mouth agape at the sensation of his composition being righted. Gradually the branding on his skin began to disappear and the energy from the man’s sudden awakening faded with it ending with eyes closing and Barachiel retracting his touch.

            “I wonder how many of these guys are out there… and to what extent…”

\------

            He watched as the man with blond locks that are pulled haphazardly out of his vision heave the once corrupted human onto his shoulders. The woman smirked at his struggle at first but then pointed in the direction of the local police station. He hasn’t come this close into running into another angel for a long time. It was kind of exciting.

            Muriel was perched, crossed legged on the roof of the parlor down the street from the antique shop. A shiver traveled up his spine as the wind began to pick up again ruffling royal blue hair that matched the plaid jeans on his leg. He fiddled with the beads around his neck out of habit while watching the pair disappear into the station. He sighed.

“Well, this is different”


End file.
